Dreamers and Do-ers.

I know where I want to be. Two years from now, ten years from now, the vision is the same and it is as dauntingly clear as my reflection. Unfortunately for me, I am in the first of the world’s categories; I am a dreamer, a thinker, a planner, and no matter how much I want to, I cannot seem to become a do-er.

A week ago (yes, it has taken me this long to write this post – Exhibit A) I had my first ever full ‘day off’ from mum-ing. R would be delivered to me every 2-3 hours for a feed but otherwise, the day was my oyster. I went to bed the night before with visions of how productive and fulfilling it would be – I’m talking pampering, writing, reading, hot coffee and transforming my house into a spotless, Pinterest-worthy wonderland. I awoke, apparently defeated by slumber, with negligible motivation for anything except sleep, Instagram and junk food. Exhibit B: I spend the majority of the day indulging those three vices and then, in my last hour, made a mad dash to the bathroom for a shower to wash on some dignity before the day came to a close. And that was basically it.

So why? How is it that a full night’s sleep seems only to render me inert? Please tell me I am not alone in this. Can a dreamer become a do-er, and how? Rather than regret, I’d much prefer to wake up in ten years filled with contentment and some goals achieved.

On a brighter note, half-term has been fantastic! The kids (who am I kidding?) love having Daddy home from school for these periods during the year. For all its faults, this is definitely one of Teaching’s perks. National Trust exploring, swimming, cafes and Easter egg hunts are our memories, what are yours?

Jaide x

 

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Snowdrops in Lieu of Snow.

It has been a few weeks since our wander around Hodsock Priory, but as Spring still isn’t in full swing, a gallery of our afternoon still feels appropriate, and even timely.

It’s a Saturday and it’s freezing. Absolutely freezing. We arrived at Hodsock Priory and made a B-Line for the cafe and its soup and coffee. Eventually we mustered the courage to venture outside and, while it swiftly dawned on me that my two pairs of socks were not going to be enough, our bravery was well rewarded.

Now You Are Two.

When you were in
I could not have known
How life would change,
Nor how much I’d grow.
Life held its breath,
Until you were born;
Love did begin
When you were in.

Poised For Renewal.

Spring is in the air, everywhere I look around. I don’t know what it is about the changing of the seasons that leaves one so susceptible to the compulsion to reflect and renew (and clean – or maybe that’s just me?!) but I find myself looking back at the last few months and feeling a little underwhelmed. The desire to kick-start my commitments is officially ignited and maybe it’s foolish, maybe it’s wise but the ability to improve myself is something that I must believe in.

A Letter to My Loves on Valentine’s Day.

It can only be described as I imagine the Dawn of Time might have felt to a ladybird, had she been there… A shift of indescribable proportions on a being so minute and yet so important. Her world as she knew it becomes something so completely different.

Multiple-Personality Disorder of “Mummy”.

Some days I feel as though it is simply misplaced – like a lost sock – lamentable, potentially permanent and large part of myself but not really the end of the world. On others it feels completely sucked into the black hole of nappies, toys and tracksuit pants, never to be seen again. And sometimes it feels completely defined and inspired by the mini people clutching at my legs, pulling at my hair and clinging to my heart. ‘Myself’ has become a variable concept.